i seem to be like a post-it note,
something you need to write down to forget
for every time i reach to you,
you just aren’t available yet.
oh, i’m so sorry, i was just leaving.
gee, it’s good to see ya,
but i have got to get going,
seems someone else always needs ya.
or else you’ve just found a free moment
in which to catch your own breath
for your limit was reached in other’s encounters,
and you just don’t have Time for me yet.
so why do i keep asking?
why do i seek you so?
‘twas only because you opened up,
something most the Men i’ve met don’t know.
i say hey!, check this out, it’s fantastic!,
so i feed me as I bring things to you;
i thought that mutual sharing
was the way to build something that was True.
but you just don’t build Anything in return;
i’ve become some thorn in your side.
i don’t know where it came from,
but it’s obvious you need to hide.
there seems no Joy in relating to me;
i’m like an old shoe, an old pillow, cast away.
always there for the taking,
available. nothing More left to say.
i’m just not something you welcome,
i’m not something you long to embrace.
it was just a brief encounter,
but one that left me with such beautiful Grace.
but that was then, and this is now,
we both got a dose of being Free;
to encounter, to trust, to open up,
and it had a profound effect on me.
but you cannot Feed on what i felt from you,
that is mine, and mine only to behold.
and it seems to be that you don’t know it yourself;
you pontificate, you procrastinate, and grow old.
you exalt your Self above others,
for you finally awakened inside.
but you still roil around in your own Self,
thinking you’re the One who’s got it right.
and that demon will come back to bite you
when others shun you for being pompous and crass,
comparing your Self to others,
like you’re the only one who has the last laugh.
but the last laugh is not a virture,
no-no, it’s a deadly Sin.
and if you believe that you’ve found it,
therein is the lost Stake you didn’t win.
none are above, and none are below;
no, all are on an equal plane.
yes there are many, and with languages yet unknown,
each species sings Life’s refrain.
liken someone to your own image;
just try it on, for a lark.
and just see where you place your own Self;
are you ending? or just giving start?
it’s not my place to fix you;
it’s only my place to choose.
and i chose you, above all others,
so of course it hurts to be so refused.
i suppose i should know better by now
to “roll with the punches,” like Mama said,
but i thought i had found that Refuge in you,
and what i got was rejection instead.
i don’t begrudge you anything;
in fact i pet the Wings you've recently found.
but i have a pair too, and i must spread them,
and i’m so sorry we ran aground.
i’ll be here and there, as you know me.
i’m pretty obvious, and easy to find.
so it’d be nice if you contacted me now and again,
if i ever come to mind.
i’m bound to run into you somewhere again;
i’m bound to wonder if you were as i thought.
and i’m bound to wander away from you,
if you can’t match what i brought.
i only know that i loved you,
but love is so solitary.
it only reflects your own capacity,
so by that, it is Love i will carry.